洋中双语苑（三）
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Xiangjixuan
My study Xiangjixuan used to be
called South Chamber. It was only ten feet by ten, large enough for one
person to live in. As it was nearly one hundred years old, dust and flakes of
plaster fell and the roof let in rain. When I moved my desk, I could find no
place to keep it off the rain. It faced the north and the sun could not
inside. Soon after noon it turned dusky. I did some repairs to the roof to
stop it leaking, opened four windows in front and built a wall around. When
the sun was reflected from the wall, the room brightened up. I planted
orchids, laurels, bamboos and trees about and, therefore, the old railings
looked brighter with colors. The bookshelf was filled with books on loan. I
read and chanted aloud, beating time by swaying back and forth. Sitting in it
I could hear various sounds emanating from outside. It was so quiet round the
steps that small birds often came looking for food there, not scared of mens
presence. On the fifteenth night of the lunar month the bright moon flooded
half of the wall. When a gentle breeze arose, laurel leaves shimmered flecks
of moonlight on the wall and it was pleasing to see the shadows dancing and
hear the leaves rustling in the wind. I lived in this room, happy in some
ways and sad in others.
Previously the courtyard was
all the way through from south to north. When my uncles began to live
separately, they put up low walls here and there with small doors in them.
Dogs in the east barked toward the west. Guests had to go through the kitchen
to wine and dine. Sometimes chickens roosted in the hall. The courtyard was
first partitioned by fences and later by walls. Such changes had taken place
several times.
We had an old maid who once lived in
this room. She was the maid of my late grandma. She had nursed two
generations of my family. My late mother had been very kind to her. The room
was connected with my mothers bedroom on the west and she once came over.
"Thats where your mum stood when she came," she would tell me. "I
was holding your elder sister in my arms when she cried. Your mum tapped on
the door with her fingers, asking, Is the child cold or is she hungry?I
answered her from this side…" Before she was finished I wept and so did
she.
Since I was fifteen I had been reading
in this study. One day Grandma came and said, "I havent seen you for
ages, my child. Why do you shut yourself up in here like a girl?" When
she left she closed the door behind her, mumbling to herself, "Since
long none of my family have got anywhere with their studies. Hopefully, this
child will be of some promise." In a few moments she returned with an
ivory tablet in her hand, saying, "This is the tablet with which my
grandfather Duke Taichang attended court sessions during the years of Xuande.
You may have use for it someday." Looking at it today I felt as if it
had occurred just the day before. I couldnt help bursting into tears.
On the east of my study there used to
be the kitchen. To to the kitchen one had to pass my study. Though I
lived in it with the windows closed, gradually I learned to tell by the tread
who was passing by. The room got fired for several times, but it didnt break
down. Maybe it had been protected by gods.
The occupant of Xiangjixuan comments:
Widow Qing of Sichuan made so much profits from her mining of cinnabar that
she topped the whole ry and the Emperor of the Qin Dynasty built a
terrace in her honor. When Liu Bei and Cao Cao were fighting each other for
the rule of China, Zhuge Liang emerged from Longzhong. When Widow Qing and
Zhuge Liang lived in obscurity in far-off corners, how did they become known
to the outside world? This humble man is now living in this shabby room, but
when I raise my brows and look up, I claim to see magnificent prospects in
it. People who to know about it will think I am no more than a frog at
the bottom of the well.
Five years after I wrote the
above article, I got married. My wife often came to my study, asking about
things of old or learning calligraphy at my desk. When she returned from her
visit to her parents she told me what her sisters had asked, "We hear
there is a chamber in your home, but what is a chamber really?" Six
years later my wife died. The condition of the room worsened and I left it as
it was. Another two years later I fell ill and was laid up in bed for a long
time. Feeling bored, I had South Chamber renovated and it looked a bit
different from before. Since then I had been away from home most of the time
and seldom lived in it.
In the courtyard there was the
loquat my wife planted the year she died. It stood there with graceful poise,
its top spread out with exuberant foliage.
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项脊轩志
项脊轩，旧南阁子也。室仅方丈，可容一人居。百年老屋，尘泥渗（shèn）漉（lù），雨泽下注；每移案，顾视无可置者。又北向，不能得日，日过午已昏。余稍为修葺（qì），使不上漏。前辟四窗，垣墙周庭，以当南日，日影反照，室始洞然。又杂植兰桂竹木于庭，旧时栏楯(shǔn)，亦遂增胜。借书满架，偃仰啸歌，冥然兀坐，万籁有声；而庭堦（阶）寂寂，小鸟时来啄食，人至不去。三五之夜，明月半墙，桂影斑驳，风移影动，珊珊可爱。然余居于此，多可喜，亦多可悲。
先是庭中通南北为一。迨（dài）诸父异爨（cuàn），内外多置小门，墙往往而是。东犬西吠，客逾(yú)庖（páo）而宴，鸡栖于厅。庭中始为篱，已为墙，凡再变矣。
家有老妪（yù）， 尝居于此。妪，先大母婢也，乳二世，先妣(bǐ)抚之甚厚。室西连于中闺，先妣尝一至。妪每谓余曰：“某所，而母立于兹。”妪又曰：“汝姊(zǐ)在吾怀，呱呱(gū)而泣；娘以指叩门扉曰：‘儿寒乎？欲食乎？’吾从板外相为应答。”语未毕，余泣，妪亦泣。
余自束发，读书轩中，一日，大母过余曰：“吾儿，久不见若影，何竟日默默在此，大类女郎也？”比去，以手阖门，自语曰：“吾家读书久不效，儿之成，则可待乎！”顷之，持一象笏（hù）至，曰：“此吾祖太常公宣德间执此以朝，他日汝当用之！”瞻顾遗迹，如在昨日，令人长号不自禁。
轩东，故尝为厨，人往，从轩前过。余扃（jiōng）牖（yǒu）而居，久之，能以足音辨人。轩凡四遭火，得不焚，殆有神护者。
项脊生曰：“蜀清守丹穴，利甲天下，其后秦皇帝筑女怀清台；刘玄德与曹操争天下，诸葛孔明起陇中。方二人之昧昧于一隅也，世何足以知之，余区区处败屋中，方扬眉、瞬目，谓有奇景。人知之者，其谓与坎井之蛙何异？”
余既为此志，后五年，吾妻来归，时至轩中，从余问古事，或凭几学书。 吾妻归宁，述诸小妹语曰：“闻姊家有阁子，且何谓阁子也？”其后六年，吾妻死，室坏不修。其后二年，余久卧病无聊，乃使人复葺南阁子，其制稍异于前。然自后余多在外，不常居。
庭有枇杷树，吾妻死之年所手植也，今已亭亭如盖矣。
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Ah,
Xiangxue
Tie
Ning
If
trains had not been invented, if nobody had laid railway tracks into remote
mountains, small villages like Terrace Gully would never have been found. The
village and its villagers, in fifteen houses, hid in the deep wrinkles of an
old mountain, silently accepting the willful mountains tender caress and brutal
temper.
But
now, two slim, glittering railway tracks stretched over the mountain. They
bravely spiralled halfway up, then quietly felt their way further, wound and
curved before finally arriving at the foot of Terrace Gully. Then they made
their way into the gloomy tunnel, dashed ahead to another mountain, and hurried
away into the mysterious distance.
The
villagers jostled to watch the green dragon whistling past. It carried an
unfamiliar, fresh wind from some strange place beyond the mountains, and hastened
away from poor Terrace Gully. It went at such a pace that the sound of the
wheels rolling on the tracks was like an eager voice: cant stop, cant stop!
It had no reason to stop at Terrace Gully. Did anyone in the village need to go
on a long journey? Did someone from beyond the mountains want to visit
relatives or friends at Terrace Gully? Were there oil deposits or gold mines?
Terrace Gully had no power at all to invite the trains attention.
Nevertheless,
a new stop was added to the railway timetable, "Terrace Gully".
Perhaps some passengers had made a suggestion, and one of them who had some
influence was related to the village. Perhaps the train attendant, a jolly
young fellow, had noticed the pretty girls of Terrace Gully. Every time the
train passed, they would come in groups, stick out their chins, and stare at
the train with greedy eyes. Some pointed at the train, and occasionally you
could hear coy screams when they poked each other. Perhaps none of these was
the real reason. Perhaps Terrace Gully was just too small—so small it made your
heart ache, so small that even the gigantic dragon couldnt bear to stride
proudly ahead without stopping. Whatever the reason, Terrace Gully was on the
railways timetable now. Every evening at seven oclock, the train from Beijing
to Shanxi would stop here for one minute.
One
minute, so fleeting, yet it threw Terrace Gullys peaceful evenings into
disorder. It had been the custom in the village to go to bed right after
dinner, as though everyone heard the old mountains mute order at the same
time. The small stretch of stone houses would suddenly become completely
noiss--so quiet that it seemed the village was silently confiding its piety
to the old mountains. But now, the girls of Terrace Gully served dinner in a
flurry, absent-mindedly grabbed a quick bite and, soon as they put down their
bowls, went straight to their dressers. They washed off the dust and stains of
the day, revealing their rough and ruddy complexions, combed their hair, and
then vied with one another in wearing their best outfits. Some girls put on new
shoes which they were supposed to wear only for Spring Festival; others even
secretly put a little rouge on their cheeks. Then they ran to the railway,
where the train passed. Xiangxue was always the first; her next-door neighbour,
Fengjiao, followed right behind.
At
seven oclock, the train slowed down as it approached Terrace Gully, gave a
loud crash and a shake, then stopped. The girls rushed toward it, their hearts
thumping violently. As if watching a movie, they looked into the cars through
the windows. Xiangxue hid behind her friends and covered her ears. She was the
first to come out of her house to watch the train, but retreated when it
arrived. She was frightened by its gigantic head. The monster spurted out
magnificent white smoke, as though it could suck Terrace Gully into its stomach
in one breath.
"Xiangxue,
come here!" Fengjiao dragged Xiangxue to her side.
"Look
at those golden rings in that ladys hair. What do you call them? Its the lady
in the back seat with that big round face. Look at her watch, its smaller than
my nail?
Xiangxue
nodded. At last she saw the golden tings in the womans hair and the tiny watch
on her wrist. But soon she found something else. "A leather schoolbag?
She pointed to a brown leatherette satchel on the luggage rack.
Xiangxues
discoveries usually did not excite the other girls, but they still rushed up
around her.
"You
stepped on my toes? Fengjiao cried out and complained to another girl who was
pushing to the front.
"What
a loud voice! You want to show off so that white-faced man will talk to you,
dont you?"
Tll
tear your mouth off if you repeat that? Fengjiao cried, but couldnt help
looking over to the gate of the third car.
The
fair-skinned young attendant stepped down from the train. He was tall and had
jet-black hair, and spoke with a beautiful Beijing accent. Perhaps this was why
the girls called him "The Beijingese" behind his back. "The
Beijingese" crossed his arms on his chest, kept a distance neither too
close to nor too far from the girls: "Say, young ladies, dont hold onto
the windows, its dangerous?
"Oh,
so were young; are you so old?" the bold Fengjiao retorted.
The
girls broke into laughter. Somebody gave Fengjiao a shove, and it made her
almost bump into him. Instead of embarrassing her, this boosted her courage.
"Hey,
dont you feel dizzy staying in that train all day long?" she asked.
"What
do you do with that thing hanging on the ceiling? It looks like a
broadsword," another girl asked. She was referring to the electric fan in
the railway car.
"Where
do you heat the water?"
"What
if you run into some places and they havent got any roads?"
"How
many meals do you city people eat every day?" Xiangxue asked in a small
voice, hiding behind other girls.
"Bah,
Im at the end of my rope," grumbled "The Beijingese".
They
wouldnt let him go till the train was about to start. He glanced at his watch
as he ran toward the train, and shouted back: "Next time! Next time Ill
answer all your questions." He had long, nimble legs and stepped on the
train agilely. Then, the green door shut with a bang. The train dashed into the
darkness, leaving the girls beside the ice-cold tracks. For a long time they
could still feel the slight quiver in the tracks.
Everything
became quiet again. On the way back home, the girls quarrelled about trifles.
"Who
knows how many golden rings there are in the ladys hair?"
"Eight." "Nine." "No.
"Yes."
"Fengjiao,
why dont you speak up?"
"She
is thinking about that Beijingese."
"Get
lost. You talk because its you whos thinking about him." She pinched
Xiangxues hand as a wint to ask for her support. Xiangxue didnt say a word.
She just flushed with embarrassment for her friend. She was only seventeen and
had not yet learned how to rescue someone from this sort of talk.
The
same girl kept teasing Fengjiao, "I know, you like him but havent got the
nerve to admit it. Hes got such nice skin!"
"Nice
skin? Thats from staying in that big green house all year long. Let him try
Terrace Gully for a few days," someone in the shadows said.
"There
you go. Those city folks all hide in rooms from the sun. They should see our
Xiangxue. Our Xiangxue was born with this pretty skin. If only she did her hair
into a bunch of curls like those girls on the train."
Fengjiao
had no response except to let go of Xiangxues hand. Fengjiao couldnt help
feeling defensive about the fellow, as if the girls had belittled someone
related to her. She firmly believed that his fair skin was not from hiding in
rooms. It was natural. Xiangxue put her hand back into Fengjiaos. It seemed to
her that she had somehow wronged her friend, and she was asking forgiveness.
"Fengjiao,
have you lost your tongue?" the same girl attacked again.
"Whos
lost whose tongue! You girls look at nothing but whether a fellows got nice or
ugly skin. You like him, why dont you go with him?"
"We
arent the right match."
"Dont
you think hes got his own girl?"
No
matter how heated these quarrels were, the girls would always part amicably
because an exciting idea would arise in everyones mind: tomorrow, the train
would pass again and they would have another wonderful minute. Compared to
this, a little quarrel was nothing.
Ah,
that colourful minute was filled with the joy, anger, grief and happiness of
the girls from Terrace Gully.
As
the days went by, the girls added a new dimension to this precious minute. They
began to carry rectangular wicker baskets full of walnuts, eggs and dates, and
stood under the trains windows to quickly strike up bargains with the
passengers. They stood on tiptoe and stretched their arms all the way up to
raise basketsful of eggs and dates to the windows, taking in exchange things
that were rare in Terrace Gully; fine dried noodles, matches, or the gifts
favourite: bobby pins, soaps, gauze kerchieves, sometimes even richly coloured
nylon socks. Of course it was risky to take the latter items back home, for
they might scolded for making decisions based purely on their own fancy.
The
girls seemed to have a tacit agreement to assign Fengjiao to "The
Beijingese". Nobody else but Fengjiao, basket in hand, would ever go to
him. It was amusing to see how she made a deal with him. She always dawdled on
purpose, then put a full basket into his hands just when the train was about to
start. The train began to move before he had time to pay for her eggs. He put
the basket in the train, and made gestures to explain something to her, while
she stood by the train feeling happy; she was glad that he took the eggs
without paying. Of course the fellow would bring money to her next time, along
with a bundle of noodles, gauze kerchieves, or something else. If the noodles
weighed tenjin, Fengjiao would insist on taking out onejin to give back to him.
She felt this was only fair. She wanted their contact to be a little different
from a regular business sale. Sometimes she would remember the girls remark:
"Dont you think hes got his own girl?" As a matter of fact, whether
or not he had his own girl was not Fengjiaos concern, because she never
thought of going away with him. But she wanted to be nice to him. Did she have
to be his girl to treat him nicely?
Xiangxue
was taciturn and timid, but her sales were the most successful of all the
gifts. Passengers loved to buy from her because she looked at them so
trustingly with her pure, innocent eyes. She had not learned how to haggle over
the price; she simply said: "You offer as you think fit." They looked
at her face that was as pure as a new-born babys, her lips as soft as red
satin, and a beautiful feeling would come over them. They couldnt bear to
trick this little gift.
Sometimes
she would seize an opportunity to ask passengers about things from the outside.
She asked if the unversities in Beijing would want students from Terrace Gully,
and what "musical poetry recitation" was (she happened to see this
term in a book a classmate brought to school). One time she asked a middle-aged
woman with glasses about a pencil box that could close automatically, and how
much it would cost. But the train started moving before the woman could answer.
She ran quite a while after the train. The autumn wind and the whistling wheels
rang in her ears; then she stopped and realized how ridiculous she was being.
The
train was soon out of sight. The girls surrounded Xiangxue. When they found out
the reason for this train chasing, everybody laughed.
"Silly
girl? "Its not worth it."
They
tapped her mockingly on the shoulder like the venerable elders would do.
"It
was my fault. I should have asked her earlier." Xiangxue would never think
that this was not worthwhile; she only blamed herself for acting too slowly.
"Bah,
you might as well ask about something better" said Fengjiao carrying the
basket for Xiangxue.
"No
wonder she asked that; our Xiangxue is a student," said someone else.
Perhaps
this explained everything. Xiangxue was the only one in Terrace Gully who had
passed the entrance examination for middle school.
Terrace
Gully had no school. Xiangxue had to walk five miles every day to the commune
school. Although she had a quiet disposition, with the Terrace Gully girls she
always had things to talk about. However, at the commune middle school she did
not have many friends. There were a lot of girls, but the way they acted, the
expression in their eyes and their soft laughter made it seem they wanted
Xiangxue to realize she was from a small village, a poor place. They asked her
over and over: "How many meals do you eat every day at home?" She was
ignorant of their intention, so she always answered innocently: "Two
meals." Then she would ask, "What about in your village?"
"Three
meals," they would always answer proudly. Afterwards, they felt pity and
anger that Xiangxue was so slow.
"Why
dont you bring your pencil box to school?" they asked again.
"There
it is." Xiangxue pointed to the corner of her desk.
Actually,
everybody knew that the little wooden box was Xiangxues pencil box, but they
all looked shocked. The girl sitting next to Xiangxue started fiddling with her
big plastic pencil box, closing it up with a click. This was an
"automatic" pencil box, and only long afterward did Xiangxue learn
the secret of how it shut automatically. It was because there was a small
magnet hidden inside. The little wooden box was a special present made by
Xiangxues father, who was a carpenter, to celebrate her success in the
entrance examination. It was unmatched in Terrace Gully, but here in the
school, it looked awkward and outmoded. The little box shrank back timidly in
the corner of the desk.
Xiangxues
mind was no longer at peace. The meaning of her classmates repeated questions
suddenly dawned on her. She realized how poor Terrace Gully was. Her eyes were
fixed on her classmates pencil box now. She guessed that it must be from a big
city, and the price must be quite outrageous. Would thirty eggs buy it? Or
forty? Fifty? Her heart sank.
What
am I thinking about? Did Mother collect eggs so I could go off on wild flights
of fancy? Why is that inviting click always ringing in my ears?
Late
autumn came to the mountains. The wind grew colder and the days short, but
Xiangxue and the other girls never missed the seven oclock train. Now they
could wear their colourful cotton-padded jackets. Fengjiao wore two pink
barrettes, and some girls tied their plaits with braided elastics.
They
had traded eggs and walnuts for these things from the train. They carefully
dressed up from head to toe, imitating the city girls in the train. Then they
lined up by the railway tracks, as if they were waiting to be reviewed.
The
train stopped and heaved a deep sigh, as if it were complaining about the cold
weather in Terrace Gully. Today the train showed an unusual indifference
towards Terrace Gully; all of the windows were tightly closed, and passengers
were sipping tea and reading newspapers in the dim light. Nobody glanced out of
the windows. Even those familiar passengers seemed to have forgotten the
Terrace Gully girls.
As
usual, Fengjiao ran to the third car to look for her "Beijingese".
Xiangxue tightened her red scarf, switched her basket from her right hand to
her left, and walked by the train. She stood on tiptoe so that passengers might
see her face. Nobody noticed her, but on a table, something among the food
caught her eyes. She put down her basket, held onto the window sill with a
violently pounding heart, and assured herself that it was a pencil box with a
magnet. It was so close she could have touched it if the window had been open.
A
middle-aged woman attendant dragged Xiangxue away, but Xiangxue kept watching the
pencil box from a distance. When she had assured herself that it belonged to
the girl by the window who looked like a student, she ran over and knocked on
the window. The girl turned about and faced her. Seeing the basket on
Xiangxues arm, she waved her hand apoloically and showed no intention of
opening the window.
Xiangxue
ran toward the door and when she reached it, grabbed the hand rail. If she had
still been a little hesitant when she was running toward the door, the warm air
from the car would have strengthened her resolve. She leaped onto the
footboard. She intended to run into the carriage as fast as she could and in
the shortest time trade the eggs for the pencil box. She had so many eggs --
forty today.
At
last Xiangxue stood in the train. She held her basket tightly, and stepped
cautiously into the car. Just then, the train gave a lurch, and the door
closed. The train began to move. She threw herself at the door only to see
Fengjiaos face flashing past the window. It did not seem like a dream;
everything was real. She had left her friends, and was standing in this
familiar yet strange train.
The
train gained speed, carrying Xiangxue with it, leaving Terrace Gully behind.
The next stop was West Pass, ten miles away from Terrace Gully.
Ten
miles in a train ota cat is nothing. Passengers chatted for a while and then
came the West Pass stop. Many got on, but only one got off. It was Xiangxue.
Someone in the train seemed to try to bar her way, but she jumped down
resolutely, just as she had confidently leaped onto the train a little while
ago.
She
had no basket in her arms, for she had quietly put it under the girls seat. On
the train, she had told the girl that she wanted to trade the eggs for the
pencil box. The girl had insisted that she would give the pencil box to
Xiangxue. She had also said that she didnt want the eggs because she lived in
a dormitory and ate in a dining hall. She had pointed to the "Mining
College" school badge on her coat to convince Xiangxue. Xiangxue had taken
the pencil box but had left her eggs on the train after all. No matter how poor
Terrace Gully was, Xiangxue never took anything without paying for it.
Earlier,
when the passengers had learned that Xiangxue was ting off at West Pass,
what could they say to her? They had tried to persuade her to stay overnight at
West Pass, and the warm-hearted "Beijingese" had even told her that
his wife had a relative living at this train station. Xiangxue did not want to
find his wifes relative. His suggestion made her a little sad, for Fengjiao,
for Terrace Gully. Thinking of this sorrow, how could she stay on the train?
Hurry away, hurry home, and hurry to school tomorrow. Then she could open her
schoolbag proudly and put the pencil box on the desk. So she told those on the
train who were still trying to talk her out of returning home: "Dont
worry, Im used to walking." Perhaps they believed her. They had no idea
what mountain girls were like. They believed that mountain people were not
afraid of walking at night.
Now
Xiangxue stood alone in West Pass gazing after the departing train. Finally, it
was completely out of sight and a wild emptiness surrounded her. A chilly gust
of wind blew on her and drained the warmth from her body. Her shawl had slipped
down to her shoulders. She wrapped it closer about her head, then sat on the
railway tracks curled up with cold. Xiangxue had experienced all kinds of fear.
When she was a little gift she used to fear hair: if a hair stuck to her
shoulder and she couldnt remove it, she would cry in terror. When she grew
older she was afraid to go to the front yard alone at night; she feared
caterpillars and being tickled. Now she feared this strange West Pass, feared
the gloomy mountains, and the dead silence all around. When the wind blew in
the nearby grove, she was afraid of the rustling sound. In ten miles, there
were so many groves and thickets she would have to walk through.
A
full moon was rising. It bathed the silent valley and the palegrey trails; it
bathed the withered autumn leaves and the rough tree trunks. It lit up the
overgrown brambles and queer-looking stones as well as the troops of trees
rolling over the mountain sides. It lit the glittering small box in Xiangxues
hand.
Only
then did she remember it and hold it up to take a closer look. She had not even
looked at it on the train. Now, under bright moonlight, she found it to be
light green with a pair of white lotuses. She opened it cautiously, then closed
it the way her classmate had done. It closed tightly with a click. She opened
it again, and felt that she should put something into it right away. She fished
a little cold cream case out of her pocket and put it in. Then she closed it
once more. Only now did she feel that this pencil box really belonged to her.
She thought of tomorrow. How she hoped that they would question her over and
over tomorrow at school.
She
stood up. All of a sudden her heart was full and the wind felt much milder. The
moon was bright and clean, and the mountains, shrouded in the moonlight,
reminded her of a mothers breast. The leaves of walnut trees had been blown by
the autumn wind, and curled up into golden bells. For the first time, she heard
clearly their nocturnal singing in the wind. Her fear was gone and she walked
forward on the ties with vigorous strides. So this is how the mountains are.
This is how the moon is. And the walnut trees. Xiangxue seemed to recognize for
the first time the mountains and the valleys in which she had been reared. Was
this how Terrace Gully had been? Not knowing why, she walked faster. She was
eager to see it and she was curious about it as if she had never seen it
before. Surely, someday the girls of Terrace Gully would no longer beg from
anyone. All the handsome fellows in the train would come to the village to
court, and the train would stop longer: maybe three or four minutes, maybe
eight or ten minutes. It would open all its windows and doors, and anyone could
on or off easily.
But
it was still tonight, and the situation was still in progress: the train had
carried Xiangxue away from Terrace Gully. Forty eggs were gone. What would
Mother say? Father worked day and night, stripped to the waist, his back the
colour of red copper, making chests, cupboards and trunks. This was how he
earned enough money to pay for Xiangxues tuition. This thought made Xiangxue
stop. The moonlight seemed to dim, the ties became vague. What was she going to
say to her mother and father? She looked around at the mountains; the mountains
were silent. She looked around at the nearby poplar groves; the poplar groves
rustled but refused to give an answer. Where was this sound of running water
coming from? She saw a shallow brook some metres away. She went over and
squatted by the brook. She remembered a story from when she was a little girl.
One day when she and Fengjiao were washing clothes by a river, an old man
selling sesame candy came over. Fengjiao advised her to trade an old shirt for
some candies. Fengjiao had also suggested that she tell her mother that the
shirt had been accidentally washed away by the running water. Xiangxue wanted
the sesame candies very much, but she hadnt traded after all. She still
remembered how the old man had waited patiently for her to make a decision. Why
was she thinking of this tiny incident now? Perhaps she should fool Mother this
time? The pencil box was far more important than sesame candy. She would tell
her mother that it was a magical case and whoever used it would have luck in
everything he did: go to college, take trains and travel everywhere, have whatever
he wanted, and not be scorned. Mother would believe all this because Xiangxue
had never lied.
The
singing of the brook shifted into an elated tone. It ran forward happily,
dashed on the stones, and occasionally splashed up in small sprays. Xiangxue wanted
to resume her trip now. She washed her face with the river water and smoothed
her tangled hair with wet hands. The water was chilly but she felt refreshed.
She left the brook and went back to the long railway track.
What
was that ahead? It was the tunnel. It stared blankly like an eye of the
mountain. Xiangxue stopped but did not step back. She remembered the pencil box
in her hand and imagined her classmates amazed, envious gazes. Their eyes
seemed to glimmer in the tunnel She bent over to pull up a weathered weed, then
stuck it in her braid. Her mother had told her that this way one could ward off
evil spirits. Then she ran toward the tunnel.
Xiangxue
began to feel hot from walking. She untied her shawl and let it hang around her
neck. How many miles had she walked? She did not know. She only heard small,
unknown cts chirping in bushes, and she felt loose, soft weeds caressing
her trouser legs. Her plaits had been blown loose by the wind, so she stopped
to braid them neatly. Where was Terrace Gully? She looked ahead and saw many
dark spots wriggling on the tracks. They became clearer as they moved closer.
They were people. It was a crowd walking toward her. The first was Fengjiao.
Behind her were the girls of Terrace Gully.
Xiangxue
guessed that they were waiting. She wanted to run to them but her legs became
heavy. She stood on the ties and looked back to the straight tracks. The tracks
were suffused with a dull glow under the moonlight, recording Xiangxues
journey. She suddenly felt her heart tighten, and began to cry. They were tears
of joy, and of satisfaction. In front of that stern, good-natured mountain, a
pride she had never felt before arose in her heart. She wiped off her tears,
took the weed out of her plait, then, holding up the pencil box, ran toward the
crowd ahead.
On
the opposite side, the motionless troop began to flow as well. At the same time
the girls joyful cheers burst in the silent valley. They cried out Xiangxues
name, their voices so warm and spontaneous. They were laughing that kind of
bold, hearty laugh that had no restraints. Finally the ancient mountains were
moved and trembled. They echoed in a sonorous, low, and deep voice, cheering
toher with the girls.
Ah,
Xiangxue! Xiangxue!